Try
by ifonly-criedthewoodpecker
Summary: Emma and Killian go on their mission to return home from the Underworld, but - as always - things don't go according to plan.
_Spec fic for the episode coming up in several hours :/._

 _Anyway, I barely even read through it again, but I really wanted to get this out before the episode beat me._

 _Also, the only real spoiler is a quote from the promo. So not much._

* * *

The kiss they shared… both could have probably agreed that it was the most passionate either had experienced.

It wasn't rough or harsh - not passionate in a desperate way.

Rather, as they moved in tandem with each other, and as their minds conjured only images of the other and the love that they held for them, it was passionate because it was real. It was true.

Every piece of the kiss was dedicated to the other. There were no wandering thoughts or movements made simply in a calculated attempt in order to fill some quota, nor was there any room for the hatred of self both had been facing. Instead, all movements and thoughts were controlled by what they _truly_ wanted, or by the instincts that took over in places they had no ability to address.

It was perfect.

In all ways it was perfect.

However, perfect does not mean that it worked.

For however true and meaningful that it was, there was a reason behind it, and it was obvious that their hopes had not been fulfilled.

No flash of light filled a hopeless world to the brim with bright hues.

No magic flowed through their veins and allowed them to smile mindlessly into a kiss they hoped would never end.

Beside the burning beneath their skin that seemed to have become a pleasant, normal reaction to the other, there was nothing.

They broke apart.

And at that point they were sure that their dreams had too.

They gathered themselves - minds falling back into place with the hopeless situation they were in, and their eyes remained shut in an attempt to keep any tears threatening to spill at bay.

"Emma," he had whispered far too quietly and in far too dire of a situation to bring her comfort like he had hoped it would.

(And how heartbreaking this was, for he _knew_ that he loved her, and it _was_ true. He had felt true love, had known its spark. So even as the realization that it was her that must not have truly loved him squirmed its way onto his train of thought, he felt the need to make _her_ mind stop racing with the fear and sadness she felt, and give _her_ a moment of rest.)

"No," her voice broke. She had failed him. He would stay buried in a world filled with suffering and _she_ was the reason behind it.

 _She loved him. Her heart would sigh at the sight of him and with his smile she would calm. He made her insides light up with a ferocious fire while at the same time he would put it out with soft words of reassurance, and promises of things she had never thought to hope for._

 _He made her happy, and she had tried to do the same._

 _Even in death she had come for him._

 _If that wasn't true love, what was?_

"No," she began again, stepping away from him and running nervous hands through her hair. "No, there has to be another way!" Her tears were visible now as her eyes were wide, and they made his own, still heart feel as though it were sinking beneath heavy waves in an endless storm.

Her slinking away turned into her taking large steps back towards him and taking him into her grip.

Her lips neared his once more, and he could hear her murmur things of _just one more time_ and _it will work now, I promise it will work!_

His chest dropped and clenched at the desperation in her voice, and he could not have loved her more than he did in that very moment; where, despite his own failure to make her know true love as he had, she still _tried so hard._ She always tried. No matter the situation. Even in this moment where she had the opportunity to flee, she tried to give him life and _happiness._

Perhaps it was his turn.

He gently pulled her arms from around him and looked at her with the most amount of love he could muster, whispering ridiculous nothings to her as she attempted to avoid his gaze. Meaningless words of _It's okay,_ or _You needn't worry, my love_ , or even worse promises that he was unsure if even _he_ believed spilled from his lips, and he desperately rubbed his hand up and down her arm.

She interrupted him as her sad, green eyes finally allowed themselves to delve into his.

"Killian, we can do this," she said, shaking her head as her voice threatened to give out. "We can get you home, I don't care what we have to do."

 _Gods_ did she try, and he knew how hard that made it to do right by her.

The choice of helping her try or actually helping her live was not something he would call an easy decision.

"Emma," he said, bracing himself against his own words; keeping it together so that she could fall apart.

"The kiss didn't work," he stated simply, still holding back tears. It did hurt to think that he wasn't enough for her. Even after he thought he had tried just as hard as she had when it came to making her happy, he had failed. Of course, he would never be angry over it. "Emma…maybe…"

Her eyes were wide and begged him not to say what she knew he would.

He swallowed. He had to. She deserved to be free.

"Emma, I am not your true love. I - I," he stuttered, searching for his next words as a quiet sob fell from Emma's mouth. "I'm not the person who's meant to be by your side, and I'll tell you that it hurts like hell, but I do not care. I love you, and I want you to be happy with or without me."

She shook her head with denial, but he kept on.

"And, Emma…maybe that means…" he took a deep breath. "Maybe you should have let me go."

She sniffed and her eyes got wetter as they shared a look filled with intense sadness that neither one of them had asked for.

Her eyebrows pinched together and her lips pursed as all pain they had felt in their time together before - from separations, to darkness, to death - seemed to be trumped by this single moment where knowing what should have been done didn't help anything. Here they were, once again, as the Universe refused to give up the fight it had made to keep them apart.

(And he supposed he knew why now. It was only looking out for her; giving her every opportunity to realize his worthlessness.)

"Killian," she said, and he would have lost it at how small she sounded were it not for the urgent desire he had to not make things harder for her. She looked so far into his eyes that he was certain she had seen every part of him by now; searching for something he wished that he could give her. She swayed in his hold and held back her tears, saying barely over a whisper, "I-I can't leave you…I don't know how to say goodbye."

He smiled at her, softer than he could say he'd ever smiled before, and he ached to kiss her, hold her, and soothe her wounds with words of love. But he couldn't. Not now. After finding out both that he was not her true love, and that her giving him up was being halted by her fear of saying goodbye, forcing her to see his love and feel guilt at leaving him would help nothing.

"Then don't say goodbye," he offered with fake positivity in his voice. "I will not resent you if you simply leave, love."

Her eyes went wide as a tear strolled down her red-tinged cheeks.

"I can't do that Killian! I can't just - just _leave!"_ she was insistent, and he knew that it was unlikely that she _would_ listen to him, but it was worth a shot.

" _Please,_ Emma," he begged. He would not hold her back any longer. "You won't get out of here by insisting that you'll stay!" He stroked her arm a bit to keep her from turning away. "You have a family that _loves you_ and is waiting for you to come home. A _son_ that needs you, Emma. I am worth nothing in comparison to that."

He could see the opposition to his statement that was forming in her mind, and he felt awful for ever having done this to her.

"Please," he pleaded one last time, looking at her and finally allowing his smile to slip; showing her how he truly felt.

"Is that what you want, Killian?" she asked, deflating in a way that he'd never seen, shoulders slacking and face crumpling in defeat. "Do you want me to leave you?"

He shuffled closer to her and took his hand from her arm in order to tilt her chin up.

"Emma, I want you to be safe, happy, and _alive,_ " he told her, making sure that she knew that his desire wasn't to be apart from her, but to know that he wasn't holding her back. "As long as those requirements are met, then I would willingly spend the rest of forever in Hell with a smile on my face."

He meant his words as something to set her free, to lighten her load, but instead of smiling and taking her leave, a frown became imbedded on her face and another tear fell.

"No," she insisted, and his stomach fell as he felt the familiar weight of dread settle deep within him. It all felt too familiar; him begging that she let him go, and her refusing to respect just that one thing.

As much as he forgave her for what she'd done with a heart corrupted with darkness, he couldn't say that he wasn't free of resentment for the situation.

"I-" she started before he butted in.

"Emma, _please,"_ he gripped her arm again, a bit too tightly, and shook his head. "Not again. Not again."

Her face fell and she nodded, clearly realizing what he meant. However, she continued on her past line of thought.

"I won't leave you here, Killian," she said, and he did not understand, but she quickly clarified. "Not in the Underworld. Instead, if you must remain dead," she paused allowing the words to take full meaning within her own mind. "If you must remain dead, then allow me to help you move on," she finished, and he felt himself light up with some sort of joy tinged sadness.

 _Gods_ did she try.

* * *

They stood on the cliff overlooking both Heaven and Hell staring at each other with an intensity that nearly matched that of the moment before she ran him through with Excalibur.

She took him into her arms with a force that could only be described as brutal, and he appreciated that she was the one to enact it.

He had no need to feel as though he had left her with even more haunting memories than he already had, but - to be truthful - he didn't want his last memory of her to be a heartfelt glance. A memory of her arms around him was so much better than that of a passing look.

Once the hug broke, she looked behind him and her brows furrowed.

"The bridge isn't showing up," she stated, as she pulled back to look at him.

He glanced behind and noticed the same thing, seemingly unsurprised.

(Why wouldn't he be? Of course he wasn't ready.)

"Aye, Swan," he replied, barely helping the situation - he knew - but what else could he say? He could never tell her he loved her too much to leave. that would be selfish.

"What can I do? How can I help you move on?" she asked, begging him for the answer, and he believed she deserved more peace than he ever would.

So he answered.

"Promise me you'll be happy," he pleaded, for if he couldn't spend forever with her, the next best thing would be knowing that she did, _happily_ with someone else. "Promise that you'll make an effort."

She smiled at him, heart glowing at his selflessness that she was sure he didn't recognize, as she hugged him once more.

"I promise, Killian. I will be happy," she said. And even if she was partially convinced that she was lying - unable to grasp how he possibly _couldn't_ be her true love, and how she'd be complete without him - she needed to know that he'd be happy more than she felt she needed to voice her uncertainties.

Behind them the light grew brighter and the crunching of rocks sounded. He turned to find the bridge stretching from one end of the cave to the other as he looked to her in disbelief.

It had worked. She had helped him find peace. Even if he didn't fully understand _how_ she had, she had done it just the same.

She turned him away from her and gave him a slight shove into the light, and his mind was set alight with memories as he hesitantly began walking.

He was reminded both of love and heartbreak remembering both the day at Granny's when the fairies were set free and encouragement of his hero status poured from her lips, and of the day in the Echo Cave where _she_ walked across a narrow bridge and left _him_ feeling alone.

It broke him to think that even as he was doing the same to her, she still encouraged him.

He found himself at the end of the bridge as he looked back to Emma.

Tears were running full fledged down her face now, but she smiled just the same, waving her hand to show that _he was okay, it would be alright._

He took a deep breath and did his best to believe her as he stepped fully into the light, being encased in the most wonderful feeling he had ever experienced.

Behind him, Emma fell to her knees.

* * *

As he walked into the light, he was not only surrounded by a feeling of pure bliss, but one of familiarity as the brightness began to fade.

All around him were trees, and beneath his feet was grass leading into rows and rows of upright stone.

 _What?_

He _knew_ this place, he thought, however he had no fondness of it. Here, in the graveyard of Storybrooke, he had only known pain. As was to be expected when surrounded by the dead.

Though, despite the confusing nature of it all, that was where he found himself; surrounded by headstones and looking out at what he never would have considered to be his place of peace and finality.

That was until he saw her.

In the distance, in front of a rather large grave marker, was a woman with sunlight spilling from the top of her head, kept warm by a jacket of red.

She was kneeling and placing flowers on the grave she was nearest to, and - in an instant - he knew why he was here.

He was _home._

He broke into a sprint, flying past the graves of those not _nearly_ as fortunate as him, while his face split in two with the smile that he wore.

Within seconds, he was sneaking up behind her, slowing as he heard her voice softly addressing the headstone bearing his name.

"Killian, I'm trying," she said, and he stopped to listen, to give her that moment. "I'm trying to be happy, I promise. But, when I think of you, and when I think of how you made me feel, I keep having to ask how we possibly _weren't_ true love. I keep thinking of that test, and how it didn't work, and I think…" she paused as she shook her head. "I think that it was wrong. Maybe - maybe we did it wrong, or there was something else we had to do, but I _do_ love you. And, Killian, I know that you loved me."

She stopped and he took a moment to be proud that she at least knew that his love for he was true.

"However, by now you're most-likely the happiest you've ever been, and I am _so_ happy for you. I just wanted you to know - if you _can_ somehow hear me, I wanted you to know that you _are_ my true love, and you have never failed me."

She set the flowers she'd been holding on his grave.

 _Forget-Me-Nots,_ he observed, before clearing his throat.

She whipped her head around, and her eyes widened at the sight of what she was sure was a ghost.

He toned down his smile for just a moment as he began to speak, saying, "Well, Emma, I can agree with you that I _am_ the happiest that I've ever been in my entire life."

He looked at her to gauge her reaction and was pleased to find an awed smile growing on her face.

"However, I cannot agree with you when you say that we may have done the test incorrectly," he dropped his calm demeanor as he smiled again and kneeled down to take her into his arms. "Because I'm here now, love… and I think this means we passed."

She giggled, pure music to his ears, as she hugged him tighter and then leaned back just to kiss him with fire that he felt to his core.

A steady rhythm started deep within his chest and he gasped at what he thought he'd never feel again. He smiled even bigger then, and kissed her longer as joy seeped from his bones.

When they finally pulled back from their kiss, their eyes were wet and their smiles were wobbly. Neither of them could stop the smiles, though, and neither wanted to.

He leaned forward once more to give her a peck on the lips as she caressed his cheek with tenderness, and let out a soft chuckle.

"What is it, love?" he sighed into her, barely caring why she was laughing as long as she was happy.

She gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder as she said, "We better get to my parents' house as soon as possible," she began to stand as she offered a hand to him, which he gratefully took. "My dad was pretty broken up when he saw that you hadn't returned with me," she said, smirking.

He laughed alongside her as she helped him up, and did not let go of his hand as he pulled her into his side.

"Of course he was, love," he said. "Your father would be lost without a devilishly handsome pirate by his side." He waggled his brows and laughed again.

She smiled gently at his words as they began walking in the direction of _Not the Graveyard,_ and she put her head on his shoulder.

"Yeah, well I think I would be too," she said, and he sighed happily, overjoyed by the love that she showed.

It wasn't often that one found true love, he thought. And _damn_ was he happy that she was his. (And even more that he was hers.)


End file.
